


22-All the Kingdoms

by WritestuffLee



Series: The Warrior's Heart, Volume 4, The Long Shadow [22]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: AU, Drama, M/M, POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-28
Updated: 2009-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:05:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritestuffLee/pseuds/WritestuffLee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People change; the tide of relationships shifts. Even the best time together can be bittersweet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	22-All the Kingdoms

**Author's Note:**

> Art by Cajolerisms

We woke with the world at our feet.

The night had been hot and we’d both slept naked on top of the sheet, preferring by silent mutual agreement to open the windows to natural air rather than find the climate controls. Somehow, we’d forgotten to close the curtains the night before, but it didn’t matter. There were only the three of us and the family caretaker droids in Padme’s summer house, and nothing beyond the windows but hectares of woods and hills and water. Padme had assured us we were welcome to it, alone, for the duration of our leave—ten days. Ten glorious days. I could only hope she knew what a kind gesture it was.

Bruck and Jicky and I had been on the go constantly for nearly a half-year again, together and separately, and it had been hard on all of us. Jicky was cramming in more field experience than most padawans her age and had seen some things even I hadn’t done at her age, hard as my own apprenticeship had been with Qui-Gon. As I had, she’d begun to grow up quickly in the field. Bruck had been paired with us again when I returned to fieldwork after my latest round of therapy, only in part because we work well together. Prudence had dictated that someone I knew would be more likely to ground me in case of a flashback than someone I didn’t, and Bruck had been the logical choice. Had Jicky been a bit older, the responsibility would likely have fallen to her; I was glad it hadn’t, yet. At any rate, there had been none, a fact which surprised me more than anyone. There had certainly been no shortage of potential triggers. Perhaps I’d just been too busy to notice them. Lying here on a soft bed in summer warmth, it certainly felt that way.

Light streaming in from the foot of the bed woke me earlier than I’d hoped after arriving so late the night before, but opening my eyes to the sight I did made it worthwhile. Naboo’s warm yellow sun peeped over one of the distant hillsides, bathing everything in its path in gold. It glinted brightly off the water, brushed the crowns of the trees, ignited the dust motes dancing in our room. A soft breeze rustled the curtains, stirring the warm air and cutting the humidity to something quite pleasant. Faint animal noises from outside and the soft breathing of my lover beside me were the only sounds that broke the silence.

I understood at that moment, as I sometimes did, why Qui loves the dawn so much. The world was so still, the frenetic energy of the day not yet unleashed, and everything seemed perfectly poised on a fulcrum of calm anticipation. For someone like Qui, it’s a tranquil time in which to settle the mind in preparation for the day. For me, it’s a time to sort through the images presented in the night, without letting conscious thought get too much in the way. At this hour, I’m still operating on automatic pilot unless we are on a mission, and trying not to think of anything at all, if I can help it. I’m most likely, this early, to feel instead of think, as Qui-Gon has so often urged me, and just then, the only thing that would have made feeling more pleasant would have been the addition of his presence.

But Bruck lay on his back beside me, centimeters away, close enough that I could feel his heat, still wrapped in sleep and nothing else, and that was enough for the moment. In the golden sunlight his smooth skin was a burnished copper. The light picked out the fine, soft, almost invisible white down on his legs and arms, and the wiry curls at the base of his cock, tinting them pale blond, and brightened the gold of the piercing in his nipple. The coarser and thicker hair on my arms and legs and chest was a fiery red, and even my pale skin seemed to glow in this illumination. On both of us, taut muscle made a landscape of light and shadow. I couldn’t help admiring, if not my own body, then the beauty of my lover’s limned this way.

Unusually for us, we hadn’t slept spooned together the night before because it had been too hot, but this morning, Bruck’s left foot was resting against the arch of my right and I knew he was awake too when he slid it gently down toward my toes and back up to my ankle. I reached over and stroked my fingertips lightly along his thigh as he continued. He threw an arm over his eyes and sighed a little, the only sound either of us made. Conversation is never a priority for us on mornings like this. We both wake slow, and prefer to creep up on the day silently. And touch says far more, sometimes, than words.

We lay so for a time, fingers and feet playing over each other’s skin. Bruck’s was soft and silken under my fingertips, much more so than my own, the bottom of his foot rough as sandpaper over the top of mine. What a contrast in color and textures we were, against each other, against ourselves, against the sheets. Bruck always told me that the skin on the back of my knees and inside my wrists was the softest thing he’d ever felt, and yet my hands and feet, like his, are hard as horn. He’d always liked, he said, the rasp of my callused palm over his cock, only in part because our hands are built so differently—his long and elegant and thin, though muscular as any Jedi’s; mine broader and thicker. And his skin against mine is like a fallen leaf against snow.

It was good to have the time simply to touch and admire each other, without the need to be up and ready and out the door meeting someone, doing something, solving some problem. As much time as we’d been spending together on missions, we’ve had little time to ourselves since our respective knightings. And to be fair, our attentions have turned elsewhere. Bruck has another lover too, Isa Kasir, whom I suspect he’s far more fond of than he is of me these days. I’m glad for him, but I miss what we had at one time, despite the fact that Qui-Gon means everything to me. Bruck and I were once quite close, but we’ve drifted away from each other. The prospect of ten days on our own, with nothing else to do to but reacquaint ourselves with each other seems heavenly, especially here.

I closed my eyes for a moment and let the sunlight warm my face. Though the Jedi do not accept gifts, as a general rule, it is not the custom to refuse the invitations of friends, when it is at all possible to accept them. Padme Naberrie—now Senator Naberrie—had become a friend to me during Qui-Gon’s convalescence here a few years before. It had begun as nothing more than gratitude to the Jedi in general and us in particular for aid in freeing her people from the Trade Federation’s invasion and returning her to her throne, and gradually become something more personal, if not more intimate, as I watched over my master’s recovery. At least once a day she had appeared in the hospital to check on us both, often staying for a meal or talking into the night with me. Eleven years lay between us, but in some ways Padme was older than I, with a job at least as difficult, and I admired her courage and intelligence and the kindness she managed to show despite the burdens of her office, as well as her sense of humor about those burdens and life in general. When Qui-Gon and I left, at last, it had been quite clear that any of the Jedi would be welcome on Naboo at any time, and we in particular had a standing invitation. We returned again a few years later for her swearing in as senator, where she also met my then-new padawan, and I’ve seen Padme a few times on Coruscant since. Like Bruck and I, our schedules keep us apart more often than not. But Padme had seemed delighted to offer me her family’s lakeside summer home for a few days, when I had inquired if there were some place Bruck and Jicky and I could use. Her own family was happily ensconced in their city residence since Padme’s election, so we had the place to ourselves. She graciously had the family droids open and stock the house for us and indicated that we should make ourselves at home. So we had.

Bruck reached over after a while and lay a hand flat on my belly, thumb rubbing lazily over my navel. Though the day was going to be warm, I shivered a little when he began to trace the lines of muscle in my abdomen with one finger. We knew each other well enough by now that he could do so without looking. I knew just where to find the deep cut of muscle along the outside of his thigh, as though it were a groove made for my fingers, and more importantly, where to find the spot inside it that would make his legs fall open to me.

He shifted a little towards me and I opened my eyes again, watching his cock, already half-hard with morning’s urges, arch and lengthen and rise until it lay against his belly, only a little darker than the rest of him. Mine did the same, coming up stiffly below my navel, in response to something more than the time of day. Bruck’s foot rubbed against mine with a little more purpose, and I let my fingers stray up over the crease in his hip, just brushing his cock with the back of my hand. “Mmmm,” he said. No words necessary. I moved down again to the soft skin inside his thigh, the edge of my hand just barely skimming his balls, curled my fingers underneath the hard muscle of his leg and stroked my thumb over a little bare patch that seemed impossibly soft. One of his fingers began circling my navel, and his knee came to rest against mine as he spread his legs.

It became a game then, one we seldom had time for, in which we would see who could hold out the longest without doing something overtly sexual. The “loser” was then required to do whatever the other desired.

The sun was halfway up over the hills outside and the light had grown stronger and warmer. A light breeze still blew in the windows, but I was hot wherever Bruck’s flesh touched mine. His metabolism is faster than mine, and I’m never cold at night lying with him. His foot slipped behind mine to stroke the sole, then back up over the toes and top of my arch and down and under again as he rubbed his knee against mine. I moved my hand up to the outside of his opposite hip, thumb tracing the ball and socket of the joint. The hair on my leg caught a little in his as we slid them across each other, over and under. Bruck’s finger dipped into my navel, dangerously close to my cock, which twitched at that taunting nearness.

He still had one arm flung over his eyes, but I’d continued to watch the light shifting across us like a silken sheet, making new contours and shadows as it went. The scene outside seemed far away, like a painting in its stillness, though the lake had begun to glitter now as the sun climbed higher. My hair caught the light nearly the same way, reflecting it back in glittering red and gold highlights, but Bruck’s diffused it, forming an aura of clear white brightness around him that caught my breath. I rolled over and propped myself up on one arm for a better look, sliding one of my legs between his and intertwining our feet.

It was a beautiful view: wide shoulders, narrow waist, supple hips, long muscular legs—a man’s body—with the strangely fey and delicate features so many of the Kh’far Settlers have: the long, thin nose, the wide eyes slanting up a little at the corners, and lush biteable lips. Bruck’s hair had grown longer than mine, though it was thinner and finer, and he kept it braided now. I reached over and undid the que, spreading it out over one dark shoulder. It looked like frosting on spicecake and caught the light like the rest of his hair did, capturing and diffusing it into a halo. I’ve been looking at him this way for nearly ten years—hard enough to believe in itself—but it’s only every so often, in moments like this, that I truly see him. I suppose that’s true for all of us.

We rubbed our feet together gently, toes caressing each other. I ran one hand over him, not touching anything but that aura, the light from it seeming to erupt through my fingers. Bruck shivered as though he could feel my hand and I saw coldflesh rise on his arms. I rested my palm against his chest for a moment, than ran my fingers down the center of it lightly until I reached his navel.

I knew I’d lost the game then. I was wide awake now and I wanted to run my tongue over and around that little nub of flesh, taste and suckle it. I got up on my knees and moved between his, holding his hips in my hand and bending over him to do just that. “Tell me what you want,” I murmured against his belly, conceding, licking and sucking, making him quiver. I drew a line with my tongue up to his breastbone, detoured to the nipple with the piercing and did the same. Bruck’s hands came down and locked in my hair, fine fingers buried in what had become a thick mass in the last three years, holding me against him. There was a tang of sweat on him, and the sharp taste of metal with it, and that wonderful smell of his skin. I sucked hard and flicked the little barbell with my tongue and heard Bruck moan, felt his fingers flex in my hair, so I did it again.

“Right to my cock,” he gasped, panting a little.

“Is that what you want?”

“No,” he growled. I loved his voice in the morning, all snarl and gravel, especially when he woke up wanting it. “I want you to ride me, like the first time. Make it last.”

Usually he wanted it hard and fast in the morning, we both did. But he was still sleepy and I was feeling equally lazy so it suited me as well. I slid down along his body, rubbing my cheek against his skin until my chin bumped his cock, pulling another gasp out of him. My mouth full of spit, I laved his cock until he was slick and glistening, then straddled his hips, lowering myself onto him slowly. The blunt head slipped against my opening, and for a moment, I missed Qui’s mouth there. Then I sank onto Bruck’s shaft, letting him open me in his own way and watching him quiver as I took him in, feeling the head of his cock slip past the second ring of muscles and farther in, bit by bit, everything shifting a little inside for him as I lowered myself. Resting on my thighs, his balls against me, I waited through the wonderful, familiar fullness in my groin and pelvis that makes me want to * _push_ * for a moment, until my body grew used to him, until there was only the heat and the mass of his cock stretching me, filling me. We’ve been together so long that that’s all it takes at this hour, when we’re barely awake, a little spit, a little push.

He clutched the sheet, hips undulating up against me, head thrown back, mouth open, eclipsed by my shadow. I lifted his hands and he turned them and closed his fingers on my wrists as I did with his, rocking back and pulling him upright, rising up a little and bringing my legs forward, on either side of him. Then we sank back onto our elbows, lying against one another, Bruck moving under me, in me. The angle was better then and his cock moved over my prostate, building a slow fire in me that made the room brighter. Lying back this way, I could see his face in the light again, limned in a pale glow, the flush of desire in his chest and neck beneath the glistening caramel skin. The sight just made me harder, made my groin ache, made me rock my hips more.

“Don’t touch yourself,” he growled, as though knowing my intentions. “Don’t let yourself come. You’re mine.”

Those were the rules of the game, and I was still mostly willing to play, so instead, I clamped my muscles around him as he thrust inside. The new tightness made him moan and arch up into me harder. After a few more thrusts, the thought of slow, leisurely sex evaporated in the heat of long-forestalled need, as I knew it would, and I found myself on my back, bent double beneath him, knees spread open against his elbows as he lunged into me, putting his whole body behind it, balls to my ass. It should have hurt but it didn’t, not yet. There was just that thick, heavy, slick heat driving deep into me, churning me inside. I was going to be sore, but it was worth it to see his face, golden and shining above me, panting through his open mouth, to hear him chant my name on each breath, watch those hot blue eyes squeeze together then fly open, pupils huge and black in the shock of orgasm as he ground himself against me, and to feel the wash of wet fire inside as he shuddered his release into me.

It seemed to go on and on, Bruck taut and shaking as though he were being electrocuted, but finally spending himself with a groan that sounded as though he truly had been hurt. With just barely enough presence of mind to untangle our legs and arms, he collapsed onto me, sweat-slick and luminous, his hair damp against his shoulders. I gathered it up and swept it to one side again, brushing it from his face so it fell behind him, and ran my hands up and down his back. His breathing quieted gradually and he propped himself up for a kiss that was warm and pleased and affectionate, grinding against my painfully hard cock. I could feel his cum trickling out of me onto the sheet, still feel the throb and burn of him inside me, making my cock throb and burn.

I rolled us over so he was below me, then got up on my knees and turned him again, pulling his hips back until he was on his knees and elbows, wet two fingers and pushed into him, stretching him open. Bruck’s always a little tight, still a little more uneasy with this than he thinks he is, but I wanted him to feel my need the way I’d felt his, so I was less careful and quicker than I might have been. Slicking pre-cum over my cock, I pressed against him, slid one thumb inside, pressing up, stretching him, and then slid just the head of my cock inside. He tried to arch away reflexively, gasping, and I held him down, one hand closing on his balls and squeezing a little, which got me another gasping cry and a shudder. I slid inside him hard between one and the other, and the shuddering became a moan. Tight. Tight. Tight.  So hot. Pulsing around me. I stroked a finger around the stretched and puckered muscle gripping me, watching it contract. Bruck arched and panted and trembled. Then I pulled back a little, sliding out, watching the place where we joined, my cock almost as dark as his skin, and shoved in again, again, again, hard. The tight, stretched ring pulsated with each backstroke, clutching me.

“Ben . . . oh gods . . . please—” Bruck moaned, shivering. “Hurry.”

I took one of his hands and sucked a finger, then brought it back to feel where we were joined, where the boundary between us blurred, guiding it over the thin, hard strip of flesh at the base of my cock, over his own stretched skin and tight muscle, and then along my cock, inside himself, so we were both fucking him. Then I started to move again, holding his finger in place and the bulk of it made him hiss and arch away. He cried out, squirming in my grasp. Leaning over, I bit his shoulder then licked and sucked the bite, rocking into him, fingers and cock fucking him, fucking him, and he was heat and pressure and I was inside it, inside him. “Harder!” he grunted and I let his hand go so I get could get closer, farther in, holding his hips and driving into him, in, in, in, in until the room filled with brightness and exploded in heat and light.

A little later, we lay side by side again, limbs loose, breeze drying the sweat on our bodies, sun well up over the hills now and the heat we were feeling was the weather, not our own, at least for now.

 

We were indolent the rest of the day, letting the droids bring us breakfast in bed, unpack us, and change our sheets and make our bed when we finally deigned to get out of it to shower. They fetched us more food and  drinks on the terrace while Jicky explored the grounds. We napped in the afternoon while Jicky took over the library. I decided to give her a respite from classwork, which meant she was happily engrossed in some piece of fiction when she wasn’t in the water.

Eventually, I joined her in the lake as did Bruck, but she and I stayed in far longer. We both like the water and we played in it like the child she still was and I let myself be at that moment, chasing after and dunking each other. I spent some time as her diving platform and launch vehicle, heaving her up high and into the water to come down with a big splash from which she came up again giggling and begging, “Again, Master!” Bruck watched in amusement from the beach for a while then strolled back to the house, towel over his shoulder, yawning. We found him later half-dozing, half-watching a trashy holo. I couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on his hair before going to change.

 

That night, we slept spooned together in the cool air of the climate controls, and woke at nearly the same time, the sun above the horizon but still early. I nuzzled Bruck’s neck and squeezed him a little and muttered “Morning.”

“Yeah, already,” he moaned and I laughed.

“At least we don’t have to actually get up yet.”

“You’re already up, I can tell.”

I snorted. “And you’re not.”

“Shut up, Kenobi. I just wanna lie here and wake up,” Bruck whined.

“Fine with me,” I murmured and kissed his shoulder. We drifted pleasantly for a while, not speaking, snuggled together and half dozing.

Finally, when I was nearly asleep again, Bruck yawned and murmured, “The only thing that would make this even more perfect is if Isa were here. Do you miss Qui-Gon?”

For a brief second I was a little hurt, and then I realized I did miss Qui, even with Bruck in my arms. “Yeah,” I sighed. “I do.”

B-Boy was silent for a moment, then rolled over and propped himself up on an elbow, facing me. “It’s not the same, is it?” And he was far too awake now for my taste, and asking uncomfortable questions. That was usually my job, and I didn’t much care for having the tables turned. Especially not before I’d had tea.

“How so?” I said, dodging.

His expression softened and he reached one hand out to run his fingers through my hair. “It’s not, and you know it. It’s okay. People change. Circumstances change. And it’s not like you to not want to face that.”

I looked away, knowing he was right, and wondering why I was having such a hard time admitting this to myself. It wasn’t the same, and I’d known that for some time. We saw each other so little now that it was hard to maintain more than a friendship. And when Bruck and Isa were in temple at the same time I was, he spent more time with her than with me. Only fair; I spent more time with Qui than with Bruck when the tables were turned. Bruck kept stroking through my hair, saying nothing and letting me think. Finally, I flopped over on my back and heard myself let out a dramatic sigh. It would have been almost funny if it hadn’t sounded so petulant even to me.

“No, it’s not the same, is it? I miss that, too,” I said. “I’m glad you and Isa found each other, but I miss what we had. You’ve always been good for me. And good to me.”

“That’s not going to change,” Bruck said in a quiet voice, his hand cupping my cheek.

“I hear the phrase ‘let’s just be friends’ looming,” I replied sourly.

“I just got it out before you did.”

“I’m not sure I would have said it.”

“Yeah, letting me do the dirty work again.” He grinned, saying it, but I could feel his melancholy and a little resentment underneath it.

I took his hand and laced our fingers together. “When we started this, you told me I was an, an aberration, for want of a better word. That your taste leaned more to women. I knew eventually you’d find someone who was more to your preferences. It’s just hard to let go because we’ve been so good together.”

“It doesn’t mean I’ll never sleep with you again, Ben. It just means—”

“I’m not your first choice.” I managed, somehow, to keep the sarcasm and disappointment out of my voice. It still stung, and that was ridiculous. I’d known we’d been growing apart, that Bruck’s main focus was on Isa, as mine was on Qui. And I _was_ happy he’d found someone. I liked Isa. She was better for Bruck than I was. I was just being absurd, and I didn’t know why. So much had changed in my life—

Oh. Well.

“Not fair, I know,” I admitted. “I just feel a bit . . . I can’t explain it. The last few years have just been—”

“Overwhelming?” Bruck finished for me. “Crazy?” There was both empathy and sympathy in his voice, and that was new, something I’d never been able to bring out in him, but that Isa had.

I nodded. “You’ve been one of the few stable things in my life since I was knighted. I always knew where we were with each other. Now that’s changed, too.”

“Yeah, I know. We grew up, got knighted, went out on our own. You’ve got a padawan, had some pretty serious stuff happen to you, things I couldn’t really help you with—”

“You have, though,” I insisted, but Bruck shook his head.

“Not the way I wanted to, or the way Qui-Gon has. More than ever, he’s your foundation now. I’m not in temple half the time, but he’s always there. Almost always there. We saw a lot of each other as padawans, but not so much now, unless we’re working together, which we won’t for much longer. I think they’ll clear you for solo work again when we get back.”

“Probably,” I agreed. It was a bittersweet thought. Working with Bruck had been a pleasure, almost as much as working with Qui always was. When that ended, we’d be lucky to see each other two or three times a year. Expecting to have the same relationship was unrealistic, and I knew it.

“Ben,” B-Boy said gently, “we’re always going to be friends. That’s never going to change. But I think we’re both focused on different relationships right now.”

I sighed again. “I hate it when you’re right.”

Bruck grinned the devilish grin I’ve always loved. “Doesn’t happen that often, does it? Don’t worry, I won’t rub your nose in it.” He worked his hand free and threw back the covers, then knelt over me, taking my cock in hand. I’d wilted a bit with the conversation. “I don’t mind rubbing this, though,” he said, suiting action to words.

“Gods that’s good!” I gasped only moments later. In short order, Bruck had me writhing helplessly, holding me on the edge. When I finally went over, it was with a shriek that I had to muffled with a fist. When I had the presence of mind to look up again, Bruck was watching me smugly and lazily stroking himself.

“You’ve picked up some techniques from Isa,” I said when I could speak again.

“I’ll thank her for you,” he acknowledged, and grinned.

I bowled him over backwards on the bed, catching him by surprise and leaving his head and shoulders hanging over the edge. He flailed a moment until I pinned him by his legs then swung my own over him to straddle him, wrapped my hand around his cock, and returned the favor with a blowjob that had him arching his back up off the mattress and twisting beneath me with harsh, staccato cries as he came. Then I hauled him back up onto the bed and lay down beside him.

“Oh, shit, I’m gonna miss this,” he gasped. “I already miss it.”

I kissed his sweaty temple. “Me, too,” I agreed.  “Let’s do it again tonight. And tomorrow morning.”

He laughed and got up, then pulled me up after him. “Hell, let’s do it again now, in the shower.” So I had him up against the shower wall, teasing him first with some of the more sybaritic features the bath had to offer. We might have stayed in there all day if we hadn’t gotten hungry. Jicky just rolled her eyes at us when we finally did appear.

 

The rest of our stay was like a honeymoon, in a strange way. We lazed about, enjoying one another’s company, swimming, sparring, taking leisurely runs down the trails around the grounds, eating good food (sometimes even cooked by me), and making love. It was as though we were discovering one another for the first time, and that too was true in a strange way. Seven years doesn’t seem like much to most people, but seven years in the life of a Jedi, especially two padawans, can bring enormous changes, and had, to both of us. We were different people now and that was both a blessing and curse.

People change.

We’d changed. Bruck was more sure of himself—no; Bruck was, finally, at home in his own skin, in his own skills and abilities, in his identity as a knight. And I was, well, whatever I was. Older, wiser, less idealistic, a little broken. The old rivalry was dead and buried, the need for each other in our own insecurities fading or faded. Bruck was right: we would always be friends, but the need that drove us together—his for someone who believed in him, mine for someone who was a peer and not a superior—had disappeared as we’d grown up and our circumstances had changed. We made love now playfully, without the sense of desperation or the complications that had sometimes colored our coupling when we were younger. It was comfortable, sweet, funny, and all the more pleasurable for knowing it was probably the last time we would sleep together. We made the most of every moment we had together, touching often and affectionately, wrestling and rough-housing, sitting close in front of the fire or the holostage, sleeping spooned against one another. It was one of the best leaves I’d ever had, and one of the most bittersweet.

Eventually, it came to an end, and we headed back to Coruscant, where Bruck’s prediction came true.

 

“Talk about good news and bad news,” he muttered as we left the Council chamber after receiving the news.

I agreed, feeling an odd mixture of elation, relief, and regret. “Seems a shame to break up a perfectly good team.”

“It does, doesn’t it? On the other hand, it means you’re fit for duty again, and there’s twice as much butt-kicking Jedi to go around now, which is good, too.”

I stopped and turned in the hallway, putting a hand on Bruck’s shoulder. “Thanks for watching my back. I’m going to miss working with you, B-Boy.”

“Yeah, we make a good team, Ben. Who knew?” Bruck grinned. “I doubt this’ll be the last time we work together though. The fans will want a reunion tour sometime.”

I hoped he was right.

We’d not gone far down the hall before Isa appeared and hurled herself with her usual restraint in Bruck’s direction, making both Jicky and me scurry and dodge out of her way, respectively. Bruck caught her with a practiced ease and whirled her around to dissipate the momentum, then braced her against the wall and kissed her enthusiastically. When they pulled apart briefly, his face was lit with such joy that it stopped my breath. Feeling a bit voyeuristic and not a little envious, I turned Jicky and myself for home.

“Hey! Kenobi!” Isa called after us. “Bring Qui-Gon and Jicky to dinner tomorrow night. I’m cooking. 1800-ish.”

“Don’t forget the beer, either!” Bruck added and both he and Isa laughed at some inside joke, made at my expense.

I turned with a smile, waved an acceptance, and kept walking, feeling those same mixed emotions of happiness and regret. It wasn’t hard to see how good Isa was for Bruck, and he for her. It wasn’t hard to see how happy they were together, how much they loved each other. I knew we would all enjoy dinner together tomorrow night and that I would go away with the same slightly melancholic happiness for them that I had now.

Qui-Gon was still out somewhere when Jicky and I reached our quarters, so I helped her sort our laundry, repack our bags, and took us off to the market. I wanted to do something that would change my focus and dispel the whiff of sadness inevitable changes always bring. A few hours later, carrying the makings of tonight’s dinner and the beer I was instructed not to forget, we met Qui-Gon coming back from the salles with his hair still damp from the shower. He smelled wonderful. He tousled Jicky’s hair affectionately, then tilted my chin up and pressed his mouth to mine, teasing my lips apart with his tongue. It was one of those kisses where time stops and all that exists is your lover’s mouth on yours, his scent in your nose, his hands on your body. We were both breathing quickly when we parted, and Qui-Gon’s eyes were shining with pleasure. I know mine were, too. We walked the rest of the way to our quarters hand in hand, behind Jicky, who’d pointedly gone on ahead.

“Did you and Bruck enjoy your furlough?” he asked me, his thumb caressing the back of my hand.

“We did,” I told him, “though I’m glad to be back with you.” And I was, more than I’d realized. I’d been quietly aroused since he’d kissed me but it wasn’t urgent. Instead, it had given me a warm glow.

He squeezed my hand. “I’ve missed you too,” he said quietly and gave me a glimpse of that lopsided smile before he kissed my temple.

Those four words warmed me through like nothing else  in the last tenday had, like nothing else ever could.

Qui-Gon touched me all evening: caressing my face before he helped me off with my cloak when we came in; running his hand up the back of my neck beneath my hair while I was chopping vegetables; sliding his foot against mine under the table as we ate; brushing my arm with his own as we cleaned up. After dinner, he pulled me down to first cuddle with him on the sofa then make out like teenagers after Jicky went to bed. I ended up across his lap, cradled there with one arm as we kissed while his other hand made its way down my pants. Mine had worked their way inside his clothing too, finding vast expanses of warm skin beneath my palms and a stiff nipple to pinch and tease.

We walked into our room still kissing, undressed each other carefully and with reverence for what was revealed, and made love slowly and sweetly, with a steady, warm passion and the comfort long familiarity brings, staying in the moment with each other as long as possible. Watching him watching me as I opened him slowly, one finger at a time, his eyes glittering and avid as I pushed into him when he was ready; moving inside him as he held himself open for me, still looking into each others eyes; seeing pleasure begin to undo him as he lay below me, that pleasure pulling down what shields he hadn’t already dropped and leaving him open and unguarded, in his face a tender vulnerability no one else ever sees; the moment of completion overcoming him, unexpected, pulling a groan that shakes both of us from deep in his chest; emptying myself into the heat of his body in a wild tide of electricity and desire; lying lax and sated yet filled with love and more desire in his arms afterwards, the smell of us rich in the air—there was no comparing these moments with whatever I’d done with Bruck for the past ten days, however enjoyable they’d been.

We curled up together afterwards and he fell asleep before I did, our legs tangled together under the sheets. I lay awake for a while, listening to him breathe, hearing his heart beat under my ear, and felt my own heart fill like it only did with him. Yes, Bruck and I loved each other, had loved each other, but not like this. Ten days ago, I’d woken thinking the world was at my feet, and knew now how wrong I’d been. The world lay here beside me, the arch of his foot under the sole of mine.


End file.
